Bomb Flowers and the Flame Zone Trap

It didn't take long to travel from Shunnel Village to Hirros Volcano. The village was practically at the volcano's foothills, so after just over ten minutes of walking, the sweltering heat began to rise.

But Vulcan had noticed someone tailing him less than a minute after leaving the village. Even though Shunnel Village wasn't popular, there were still players who came here for job or skill synergies, so he was briefly confused. But he confirmed it by the way they kept a consistent distance.

- Flies are buzzing around shit.

"So you're calling me shit?"

- Not yet.

"Ugh."

There were plenty of people heading to Hirros Volcano, but their paths varied depending on their destinations. Those hunting at the summit or sightseeing took tourist carriages, while mid-slope hunters and caravan travelers stuck to established routes. No minor monsters en route, but plenty waiting at the destination.

Vulcan's path was different. Before hunting the fire lizards inhabiting the volcano, he planned to hunt and gather bomb flowers first. So they were following him straight to the bomb flower colony he'd spotted with Dragon Eye? Their reason and goal were obvious.

'No PK mark, though...'

The confusing part was their lack of the PK mark—the red eyes. Player killers who slew fellow users entered Red Eye state until they cleared their karma via monster hunts or temple quests. Strangely, their eyes weren't red. Not PKs.

'Did they clear it in advance, or...'

Maybe they'd cleared PK status beforehand to lower his guard. Vulcan proceeded toward the bomb flowers, hyper-aware of them.

- Cut 'em down in one strike.

"No problem there."

Slash!

Bomb flowers were both monsters and gatherables. Sensing approach, they swelled up, exploding like bombs after a delay or on impact—so most users avoided them entirely.

But knowing the trick and having enough attack power made it easy. Sever the stem before explosion, and you could harvest without boom.

"Leaves, right?"

- Yeah.

Most focused on fruit, but it had limited uses—like explosive potions or boosting forge heat. High HP made pre-explosion kills tough, and EXP was meager anyway. No issue for Vulcan. His berserker longsword outclassed local threats, and EXP wasn't the goal.

Common harvest was the fruit—explosive on throw, good fire-starter.

"Whoa, it really works."

But Vulcan wanted petals. The flower regenerated fruit post-explosion thanks to flame resistance in those petals. Mix with fire lizard blood for potent fire resistance potion.

Petals in hand triggered a Dragon Eye recipe. Vulcan gleefully swung his sword. Even low-tier attribute resistance potions sold well. And no one bothered bomb flowers? He harvested freely from the colony.

'Hmm. Still holding back?'

Yet his three tails hadn't moved while he cleared dozens. Pretending to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hunt casually in this low-monster area, biding time. They seemed intrigued by his safe harvesting, but that was it. Bomb flowers were annoying, not rewarding—no reason to retreat.

Nah, it whet their appetite. One-shotting meant high attack power, no skills used. Prime gear, right? They kept glancing, anxious lest he slip away or others interfere.

But they didn't know Vulcan was targeting them too.

'About time.'

Feigning ignorance, he'd already calculated everything. He knew what they awaited.

This was it. Debuffs kicked in: all stats down, recovery slowed, periodic damage. Regulate temperature to recover, but ignore and they'd worsen. Time to choose: push deeper or retreat to heal and retry.

'Let's bait 'em.'

Without special remedies, most retreated or hunted till limit then healed below. Low resistance/HP meant quicker quits.

"Argh! All-in on strength, and now I'm dying here."

Debuffs mild at first—manageable. Vulcan irritably slashed bomb flowers, chugging potions out of sight to maintain HP. Easy to dispel, but acting weakened baited them. They wanted debuffed him.

No immediate bite on his baited grumble. They circled. Vulcan endured longer, then escalated.

"How far down do I gotta go? No wells nearby?"

Exaggerating heat agony, he began retreating, bomb flower wreckage behind, back turned.

"Bind!"

A lasso whipped from behind, cowboy-style, snaring Vulcan.

'...Knew it.'

No panic. He smirked knowingly, turning to them.

"Heh. Where ya headed?"

"Hunter, knight, and mage? Cold-attribute."

He'd pegged their classes. Not just Dragon Eye—gear styles, buffs screamed it.

"Knowin' changes nothin'. Dudes like you always act like vets when you know jack shit."

"Pfft. If you'd grasped the sitch, you'd be beggin'!"

"I can hear your eyes rollin' from here. Huh?"

They mocked. Spotting classes meant zilch. They'd think he realized no escape.

Not wrong. Their combo wasn't ideal for hunting here, but terrifying for their plan.

"Indirect PK, huh? Confident in control?"

Indirect ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠PK: No direct damage—use environment. They'd trap him in Flame Zone till HP zeroed, no red eyes.

Knight blocks paths, hunter's traps/binds/tamed pets for utility. Ice mage mitigates zone damage for prolonged torment.

"Oh, you know that too? And you're still not ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bowin'?"

"Think you won't get wrecked?"

"Quick on uptake, so proposition: Hand over your priciest gear, we let you go. Won't touch you on respawn either."

Death drops 1+ items—random 2-3 possible, all gear maybe. Yield best piece, spared + no harassment. But defiance? Endless griefing, no hunting.

- What bullshit is this?

'That's why they got away with it.'

Direct PK would've drawn challengers—PKs drop more. But indirect? No crime status. No vigilantes.

"Hmm, sounds good? Human farming's the real grind."

"Reasonable gu—"

Snap, crackle!

Bind rope shredded. Mere rope couldn't hold Man of Great Strength Vulcan.

Hiss—

Body heat vented. Chilled potion mist cooled gear and flesh rapidly. Potent enough for advanced heatstroke/burns—refreshingly cold.

"Y'all milked this plenty, so two each minimum? Two priciest gears per head, I spare ya. Or kill once."

"What? This fucker...!"

Stats restored. Buff potions stacked higher. Item Master rank-up let one option per item—strength stats now rivaled others.

Still 3v1, skills gap—but item power crushed all.

"Bind!"

"Tch! Still clueless?"

Resistance confirmed, skills flew. Hunter hurled sturdier rope; knight raised shield for escape block.

"Gotta learn the hard way."

"Huh?!"

Vulcan neither dodged nor charged. Raised arm, let rope bind, yanked hard.

Overwhelming strength dragged hunter flying to him. Why move?

"This bastard?!"

"Criminal! Just kill him!!"

Bam!!

No hesitation. Vulcan smashed incoming hunter. Others attacked as he bounced.

"Urk! What strength?!"

Knight's Shield Charge—failed to budge. Tanks prioritize VIT over STR.

Mage follow-up? Useless.

"Frozen Field!"

"Ice spell in Flame Zone? Braindead?"

Sizzle!!

Zone nerfed ice ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hard. Weak AoE debuff/slow for mixed allies—negligible.

"Why am I criminal?!"

Their issue: They'd seen Vulcan "attack" ally, yet they got Criminal status.

Unprovoked player/NPC attacks trigger 5-min PK-like Criminal. Should've been Vulcan—but oversight.

"'Cause you struck first."

Grinning Vulcan held not longsword, but repair hammer. Repair skill strike—no damage. They attacked; he "repaired" innocently.

"Armor! My armor!!"

"Y'all... Huh? This way... Huh? My hand slipped... Didn't it?"

Fury-fueled hammering shredded leather armor. Low max durab, fast drain— one failed repair plummeted it.

"Kill him! Just kill! Armor gonna...!"

"Bro said two each."

Hunter reacted fast—but too late. Durab zeroed; near-tears, Vulcan stomped chest, shoved knight.

One down? Nah—hammered next gear.

"Or strip every meet. Got it?"

Grinning evilly at clueless foes, smashed greaves.

- Hmm, kinky tastes...

'Not like that!!'

Fully stripping via repair spam.